


Electric

by herbailiwick



Category: Back to the Future (Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 19:18:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17209406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herbailiwick/pseuds/herbailiwick
Summary: Marty and Doc exchange gifts.Written 04/17/2012.





	Electric

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pikeisaman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikeisaman/gifts).



Doc pulls the tie out of its box, a smile passing over his face. He hums in appreciation. “Thank you, Marty.”

“It made me think of you,” Marty says, a little nervous. It’s a nice tie, a navy color with thin, elegant zigzags in a pale cream. “I thought, you know, if you ever had a situation where you had to wear a tie….” He feels a little dumb, after saying it.

Doc smiles at him widely, looping the tie around his neck, tying it. It was never meant to go with the shirt he has on, but Marty’s glad he seems to really like it. “It’s supposed to be like electricity.”

“I can see that,” Doc says, his lip quirking a little. Suddenly, he’s a little closer. 

Marty reaches out, runs his fingertips over the silkiness of the tie absently, eyes locked with Doc’s. This is electricity of a different kind.

Marty has on a stupid Christmas sweater that he’s obligated to wear because he’ll be heading back home later for the McFly Christmas Eve dinner, which is a serious tradition. They have Aunt Marie visiting, and she wants to see him in it.

Doc suddenly seems to notice the sweater. He seems to freeze, not pleased with what he’s seeing. “Marty…?”

“It’s terrible. I know.” Marty swallows. “My Aunt Marie,” he says with a wave of his hand. It should be explanation enough.

“That sweater makes a mockery of you, Marty,” Doc says honestly. “The horizontal pattern is disproportionate to the overall size of the garment and the colors are in a constant struggle for dominance – a battle in which the loser is always you.” He trails a finger over Marty’s wool-covered shoulder. “And it does nothing for the lines of your physical form." 

"Then what do you think we should do, Doc?” Marty asks breathily.

Doc smiles. Then, he changes the subject. He stands, looking for the big box that contains Marty’s gift.

“Maybe I should take it off,” Marty calls. “The sweater,” he adds as clarification. 

“All things in good time, Marty.” Doc pushes forward a box that could uncomfortably contain a small stove. 

Curiosity piqued, Marty stands to pull off the lid. “Doc, what…?”

“It’s a brand new musical instrument, created strictly for you, that the world has never laid eyes upon.” He gazes at Marty. “Only you.”

Marty takes in the sight. It has strings like a guitar, but it also has shiny buttons that seem to call to him. “Okay, Doc,” he says slowly. “What can this baby do?”

“That, Marty, I intend for us to discover together.” Doc gazes at his creation fondly. Doc’s not without his own musical talents, which include mostly classical instruments. He’s not afraid of rock music, no; in fact, he enjoys it only slightly less than Marty.

Marty wraps his arms around Doc from behind, resting his cheek against the man’s shoulder. He takes in a breath. Doc smells like science: chemicals, metal, a slightly burnt scent. And more. Marty inhales again, a little more deeply. “Doc?”

“Yes, Marty?" 

"Let’s discover the bed together first.”

Doc turns in Marty’s arms, his eyes dancing as he rests his hands on Marty’s shoulders. “Yes, I suppose we should remove this wardrobe abberation before it latches on and takes root.” He pulls the sweater off of Marty as quickly and carefully as he can. It happens in a single swift motion, and Marty again wonders how such a strange man does things with so much grace.

Doc gazes hungrily. “I’m extraordinarily lucky to have you. You continually point me to the right subject matter for my wandering thoughts.” He pauses, still looking, intent.

“If you take my shirt off, I get to take off yours,” Marty reminds him, reaching for the flannel shirt and undoing the buttons quickly but with practiced ease.

“Don’t forget the tie,” Doc reminds him. “We must keep it looking nice.”

Marty quirks his lip as he pushes the shirt down Doc’s shoulders. “Nah,” he says. “Leave it on.” Doc looks unsure, so he adds, “For me, Doc.” There’s nothing Doc can say to that.

Marty leads Doc to the bed, happily picturing what the tie’ll look like as Doc lies naked beneath him, at his mercy. 

It’ll be electric. Things with Doc always are.


End file.
